


thin walls aren't always a bad thing

by nachseon



Category: Free!
Genre: ;), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Nanase Haruka, Explicit Sexual Content, Fucking, Gay Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, not really but, this is garbage i am sorry, ykno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:29:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachseon/pseuds/nachseon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>is talking through shower walls normal? </p>
<p>[based on the "we're neighbors and we have showers on the same wall and one day i heard you moaning" au]</p>
            </blockquote>





	thin walls aren't always a bad thing

**Author's Note:**

> my life is a shitshow rn (hence the lack of content im sry)  
> but!!!im on break now so that gives me some time to get back to writing a lil ;v;
> 
> please enjoy this piece which i have summoned from gay makoharu hell

Makoto thinks he might die. Really, he may as well just collapse onto the floor in a jumbled mess of limbs and muscle from sheer exhaustion. Upon moving to Tokyo a few weeks prior to his first semester of college he’s been stuck in a never-ending vortex of moving things and unpacking them and filling out paperwork and job-hunting and classwork. That isn’t what gets him though; what does is that today was _supposed_ to be his one day off from having anything to do, but no. He had to get called in to his shitty, underpaying job at a supermarket – and at _9 in the morning_ – because some jackass didn’t show up. Just great.

He unfortunately wastes the vast majority of his day there, not arriving home until the early evening. He enters his pathetically tiny apartment and goes straight to the bathroom, peeling off his clothes one by one before climbing into the shower, letting the steaming hot water both soothe his aching muscles and jolt him awake. Makoto leans against the wall, closing his eyes and sighing in relief. He’s lost in his own little world of euphoria – at least, until a loud, ungraceful boom shakes him from his reverie.

The faint spraying of water and distant grumbling and cussing indicates to Makoto that there is a shower on the adjacent wall, and that some poor person had seemingly fallen in said shower. Ouch.

Makoto knocks on the wall, and calls out, “Um…excuse me? Are you okay over there?”

It takes a few seconds, but a masculine voice replies, “Ah, yeah. Just slipped. Sorry for disturbing you.”

The conversation ends there for the timebeing, but curiosity gets the better of Makoto and a few minutes later, he finds himself knocking on the wall again, this time asking the person for their name.

“Haru,” the voice replies. “…And you?”

“Makoto. Tachibana Makoto.”

The two lose themselves in conversation, talking for hours until the water runs cold and Makoto shrieks at the sudden temperature change. Haru only laughs at his misfortune, and they part ways. For now.

Because before Makoto knows it, his conversations with Haru in the shower have become commonplace. Every day, at the same time, the two young men enjoy their showers and talk about their lives, seamlessly merging them into one constant that they can always depend on, as odd as it sounds.

Makoto learns that Haru lives in the apartment next to his on the left, and that his full name is actually Haruka, but he hates it because it’s so feminine, like Makoto’s. Haru’s lived in Tokyo his whole life because of his parents’ jobs, and that he moved out of the house recently to attend college for art. He loves to swim – just like Makoto, although his specialty is freestyle – and is a really good cook, even though he only cooks mackerel for himself 99% of the time. The two form an odd friendship, but it works for the both of them.

Weeks later, however, their friendship turns drastically into something else that Makoto has no idea what to call.

He gets into the shower like usual, and he turns on the hot water, beginning to wash his body while he waits for Haru. But the conversation never starts, leaving Makoto feeling anxious. He presses his ear against the wall to listen for the familiar spraying of the water, but his ears are greeted with a much louder sound.

“Oh, god, Makoto!”

The moan most definitely came from Haru’s lips, Makoto figures, and it goes straight to his crotch because _god_ it sounded beautiful. He keeps his ear pressed against the wall, listening to the sinful noises the boy on the other side was making, and he pictures Haru’s face as he pleasures himself, eyebrows knitted together and eyes screwed shut as he pleasures himself, and the way his lips would fall open when he comes. Makoto soon finds himself grasping his own rock-hard cock in his hand, furiously pumping it and gasping out Haru’s name weakly.

Haru, on the other hand, is just about sobbing in pleasure on his end of the wall, thrusting into his hand as he desperately attempts to reach his release. He pictures Makoto being the one to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him senseless until he can barely stand or remember his own name. His only support is the wall that he leans on, instead imagining it to be the vast expanse of Makoto’s torso, pressed flush against him as they indulge in each other.

Neither of the boys know the other is jerking themselves off to the sounds of their pleasure, but when Haru moans particularly loudly, that does it for Makoto and he lets himself blow his cover.

“Ah…Haru,” he moans, “Wait…for me. I’m coming over.”

Haru _whines_ , and Makoto can just barely make out the desperation in his voice as he begs him to hurry up.

Makoto doesn’t even bother to get dressed; he wraps a towel around his waist and in a matter of seconds, he’s outside Haru’s door, ringing the doorbell impatiently. It takes a few minutes, but Haru soon opens the door, also clad in a pathetically short towel. His pale skin is flushed, and his body is trembling. Makoto takes in the sight, mentally storing the image away for the future. The boys lock gazes for mere seconds before Makoto pushes Haru back into his apartment, kicking the door shut and immediately crashing their lips together in an awkwardly passionate kiss. Their arms snake around each other’s bodies and they clumsily find the couch, on which they collapse on, still kissing and groping at each other fervently. The towels go flying off within seconds, and Haru moans when Makoto presses their cocks together and grabbing them in his hand, simultaneously jerking them off.

“Fuck, Makoto,” Haru pants, his back arching as he lets himself succumb to Makoto’s touch. The brunet breaks the kiss much to Haru’s chagrin, and instead sucks on the creamy skin of Haru’s neck. Makoto vaguely tastes the chamomile soap that Haru must have been using, and he hums in appreciation of the sweet scent. He trails his lips further down his body, biting and nipping wherever he sees fit to draw blood to the surface. Makoto’s hands also begin to wander, tracing the taut muscles of the boy beneath him and admiring how they tense each time he finds a particularly sensitive spot. He smiles, and his eyes flits over to glance at Haru, who is watching his every move.

“Tell me what you want,” Makoto whispers, not even bothering to conceal the obvious smirk on his face. “Do you want me to fuck you, Haru?”

“God, yes,” Haru replies, tossing his head back as Makoto presses a gentle, chaste kiss on the tip of his cock. “ _Please_ , Makoto.”

“I like hearing you beg,” he teases, kissing up and down the length of Haru’s cock. “Do it again.”

Haru bites his lip and has to use every ounce of willpower left in his body to not buck his hips and effectively shove his dick into Makoto’s mouth. He complies with the order, moaning pathetically about how badly he wants Makoto’s cock inside him and how badly he needs to come. Makoto takes pity on the boy, and Haru damn near cries when his cock is enveloped by the warm wetness of Makoto’s mouth.

Makoto grins, proudly basking in the sounds that Haru makes, knowing full well that he is the reason for them. He continues to suck on Haru’s cock, bobbing his head up and down and hollowing out his cheeks occasionally, forcing out louder moans from the raven-haired boy.

He tortures the boy with his mouth for a while, and when he thinks he’s suffered enough, he pulls away from the twitching, aching cock. Makoto drags his fingers along Haru’s body, loving how he shudders against him and how he creates a trail of goosebumps until he reaches Haru’s lips. Makoto prods at them with his fingers, and the boy immediately knows what is wanted of him. He coats the lithe, slender digits in saliva, moaning wantonly while Makoto watches in awe, saving another mental for future reference. When he deems his fingers to be slick enough, he pulls them away from Haru’s mouth, and he idly circles his hole, carefully pushing one inside him. Haru winces and tenses, but Makoto’s hushed whispers of encouragement allow him to relax and let the other boy stretch him out.

“If I hurt you, tell me,” Makoto says in a gentle tone, curling his finger as he searches for the one spot inside Haru that will make him scream.

Before he can answer, Haru cries out in sheer ecstasy, his back arching off the couch beautifully. Makoto knows instantly that he’s found it.

He slides in a second finger, pressing them both against Haru’s prostate and beginning to slowly move them in and out, doing his best to aim for his prostate each time. The increasing volume of Haru’s moans and pleads for more indicate that he’s close. Too close.

Makoto pulls his fingers out just before he can come, and Haru whimpers helplessly from being denied his release.

“Why’d you stop,” he blubbers, bucking his hips towards Makoto’s fingers in a futile attempt to get him to put them back inside.

“I want you to come when I’m inside you,” Makoto answers simply, silencing any more protests with a kiss. He settles himself comfortably between Haru’s legs, teasing his pink, twitching hole with his cock. He breaks the kiss again, pressing his forehead against Haru’s.

“If it’s too much…”

“Just fuck me already,” Haru orders. Makoto laughs and nods, deciding that he might as well ease the boy’s suffering, because the longer Haru has to wait, the longer Makoto has to wait, too.

When he pushes inside Haru, he has to stop halfway because holy _shit_ he’s so tight and it’s so warm and it feels so good. At this point, Makoto just wants to fuck Haru so hard that he can’t walk tomorrow, but he knows that he has to wait. Getting a dick shoved up your ass – and with no lube – isn’t exactly the nicest feeling in the world. Not at first, anyway.

Once completely sheathed inside Haru, Makoto smiles and peppers the boy’s face in kisses, waiting patiently to be told that he can move. His hands cup Haru’s face, and he gazes into his cerulean eyes like they’re the most beautiful oceans he’s ever seen – which they are. Haru gives him a small smile, and reaches up to kiss the tip of Makoto’s nose.

“You can move,” he whispers. “Just be gentle.”

“Of course.”

Makoto carefully slides himself almost completely out of Haru, and but slams back into him with a distinct roughness that has Haru’s head reeling from pleasure. Makoto repeats the action, over and over again, increasing speed and intensity as Haru becomes more accustomed to his cock. Both boys are moaning freely at this point, calling out each other’s names as they make a mess of themselves on the couch. Makoto curses under his breath and fucks Haru harder, faster, rougher; the boy beneath him only groans louder, grasping his own cock in his hand and jerking himself off, aching to come. Makoto continues his onslaught, pounding away inside Haru and coming close to his own release.

“Fuck, Makoto,” Haru moans, looking up at the brunet, his eyes glossed over from the pleasured tears brimming in them. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Makoto hisses, biting his lip. “Fuck, oh my god you’re so tight.”

Moments later, the boys find themselves lost in a never-ending euphoria; Haru comes undone with a scream, the murky white liquid spilling from his cock in ribbons landing across his and Makoto’s chests. Makoto follows Haru and just about falls over the brink of insanity, the tightening and convulsing of Haru’s asshole around his cock being too much to bear.

The come down from their glorious high, both trembling and sweaty and in need of another shower. Makoto presses his lips against Haru’s in a sweet kiss, and carefully pulls out of him. The sight of him in his post-sex haze is beautiful – his skin is still flushed and his hair clings to his forehead and there are trails of tears left from the force of his orgasm. His hole is still twitching too, with Makoto’s come slowly leaking out of him in the most obscenely erotic way.

Makoto sincerely hopes he gets to see this sight more often.

“So,” he starts, reaching for Haru’s towel to wipe him down. “That…how was that?”

Haru lets the boy take care of him, mainly because his body feels too much like jelly to do anything else at the moment. He smiles and exhales deeply, nodding and holding two thumbs up. Makoto laughs and kisses Haru’s forehead, glad that he was satisfied.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out on a date now? I’m assuming that’s what people do when they have sex,” Haru teases lightly, sitting up on the couch and tracing Makoto’s chest with his fingers. He can feel the pounding of his heart from within, from both the mind-blowing sex they’d just had and complete nervousness.

“Aha..” Makoto bites his lip, unable to handle Haru’s seductive gaze. “How’s tonight? I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

“Perfect,” Haru says. “Back to the shower I go.”

Makoto stands up to leave, figuring that this would be a good time to do so. Haru, however, has other plans.

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?”

If Haru dragging him to the bathroom isn’t enough of a giveaway, Makoto will soon realize that he isn’t leaving Haru’s apartment for a while.

Not that he minds at all.


End file.
